


Her Final Choice

by CuteCabaret



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Original Work
Genre: Alcohol, F/M, Manipulation, Mind Control, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:26:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27855881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CuteCabaret/pseuds/CuteCabaret
Summary: Rosa tells her rejected suitor that he's, well, rejected, and she chose to marry someone else. He takes it eerily better than she expected.





	Her Final Choice

**Author's Note:**

> This is a little blurb from a DnD verse me and my friends have going. The characters I own are Zhoron, Narcissa and Rosa. Any other names mentioned belong to my friend. I'll name them if they give me permission. Context needed:
> 
> Rosa, a human, was engaged to Zhoron, a sun elf, and the court mage and spymaster of her father's county/province.  
> Narcissa is her human sister who ran away for five years and came back, and is passing the inheritance to Rosa because she doesn't want it.  
> Erithil, a sun elf paladin commoner, is also vying for Rosa's hand. Both of these suitors are for political reasons...at first.  
> Tazennin is a drow who moved to the surface and works as a manservant in the human castle.
> 
> Any more questions or things I should tag, let me know in the comments!

Sooner or later, Rosa realized, she’d really have to make it abundantly clear to Zhoron that he’d, unfortunately, lost the battle for her hand. It wasn’t that she hated him! He was prickly, sure, but she had to cut him some slack. Being Spymaster for her father’s realm had to be busy work. And there were a whole lot of changes happening to the realm too – Narcissa came back, her maid was being detained, the new Dark elf neighbors. He had every right to be stressed! And that, ultimately, was why she was going with the commoner instead – because being the husband of a Countess would just be one more thing to add to his plate, and that wasn’t really fair. She kind of felt he really got the message anyway – the dates slowly stopped, he stopped sending gifts and letters, and she was a little uncertain about what to do with the gifts he’d already given her – but it was only proper to make it official. She’d track him down after dinner to share the news. Hopefully he’d take it well – she didn’t expect him to be happy. Rejection was never happy. But he was a mature, cool elf. He could handle it, right?

For a brief moment she considered bringing along Tazennin, but he was kind of timid and Zhoron could be intimidating. She also pondered bringing a maid, because it technically was kind of improper for a lady to be going alone to a man’s chambers – if he was even there – but she thought back to that time with Erithil and...well, it’s not like she was going over there to do that! Zhoron had been nothing but chaste with her anyway, except the very early days but he pulled away fast as she got closer and closer to Erithil instead.

Making up her mind, she slid past the guards out of the castle gate as the moon rose, confident that they wouldn’t ask any question. This was probably the boldest thing she’d ever done, just leave to walk a few paces over to the Elven palace – that was normal. The hour and the fact that she didn’t tell anybody where she was off to was new. But it shouldn’t take too long, and truthfully, as her feet met the gate of the other palace, the magic shield buzzing an opening that let her through with no problem, a little thrill went down her spine, just a tad. She paused to calm her racing heart – there was no reason this should get her stomach to have the same feeling that crept up when it was a gift-giving holiday and she was just presented with a package, but here it was.

To her relief, Zhoron wasn’t in his actual chambers. She’d never actually seen them before – and that was another reason it was better for her to go with Erithil. Because Zhoron would have to move in to another building entirely, or try to split his time between the two and that seemed like a hassle for someone as busy as him. Really, she was being kind to him by turning him down. Her next area to search was the library, an infinitely safer place to be seen entering and exiting from, even at this hour. If anybody asked...she was pulling a Narcissa and couldn’t sleep and wandering for something to do. Or something.

He was sitting on the sofa near the lit fire, a book in one hand, the title too far away for her to catch, but the script looked Espruar, and a glass of wine in the other. On the table nearby sat the bottle and another empty glass – again, she was too far away to read the label, but knowing Zhoron, it was top vintage. He looked up when she entered, closing the door behind her, poker faced as always. “Lady Rosa.” He greeted but didn’t make a move to get up or anything. She plopped herself right next to him, spending a minute or two trying to decipher the text he was reading before deciding it was yet another one of his advanced fancy wizard books that he never explained because he told her she’d never understand something so complex anyway. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” He continued, after a sip of his wine. “You’re usually not here, and never this late.”

“I needed to talk to you about something important.” Rosa steeled herself, bracing for the inevitable questions, but none came, so she continued, taking a deep breath. “I’ve decided I’m going to marry Erithil.” She sat, tense, as Zhoron’s face went through what she thought was the predicable five stages of grief. She hoped it settled on acceptance but it was always hard to tell with him…

“Are you sure that’s the right decision?” He asked. “Are you sure you’re making the right choice?” He watched her shrink a little, eyes darting to the wine, and he drained his cup slowly, letting her say her piece.

“Yes, I’m sure. Being my husband is going to be a lot of work – it isn’t fair to put more of that on you. You’re already so busy with many important things…” He put a hand on her shoulder, putting his empty glass down.

“That’s such a silly thing to worry about.” He chuckled. “You’ve always been sweet like this, but think for a second. Being your husband _is_ going to be a daunting task – are you sure Erithil is up for it? He doesn’t know anything about politics or court etiquette. He can’t tolerate large groups of people, and being seen in public at major events – being in charge of major events is going to be his responsibility, and it’s very stressful. You wouldn’t want to put him in a position that he’d absolutely loathe, would you?” He went to pour himself another glass.

“...maybe, when I inherit, he won’t have to.” She protested. “I’ll make it so all of the responsibility falls on me.” Taking on the social sphere roles as the woman – parties, charity, stewardship of the house, administration duties – and the man public sphere roles...well, really, they kind of overlapped, didn’t they? There’d never been a war as long as she was alive here. So really she’d just be stepping into her mother’s shoes with her father’s title, right?

“So ambitious.” He praised. “Maybe that’s why he fell for you, if he did. I hope you aren’t conning him into a political marriage that he thinks is genuine.” He tsked, suppressing a grin at her indignant face.

“He knows!” She quipped. “He’s aware.” She repeated, calmer this time. “Everything will work out.” She made a move to get up but hesitated. She shouldn’t leave unless she was sure Zhoron got the message and that there were no hard feelings, as much as there could be given the circumstances. “Please don’t be upset at Erithil. The decision is mine to make.”

“I’m not upset, sweetheart.” She gave him a flat stare. “Well, no more than a man would be at being turned down by such a lovely lady. But if you’re really this optimistic about your future life together, I’m happy for you. I wish you two the best.” It wouldn’t last long anyway – humans were fickle, their women moreso, and once the stress of being Countess consort got to Erithil, and the fights broke out, the marriage would fizzle with it, he was sure. “Are you sure that’s all you wanted to speak to me about?”

This time she actually stood up completely, fidgeting with her skirts. “Yes. You must be very busy.” He caught her hand as she made to leave, relief bubbling all inside, and she turned, a little confused.

“Oh, I’m not busy at all.” He said. “In fact…” In the bottom of his spell component bag, a honeycomb disintegrated. “Why don’t you stay a while longer and we can catch up? We’ve both been very busy, and it’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

Rosa’s eyes grew distant and she sat back down. He was right, this was just hanging out with an old acquaintance – and if he had news from the elf side of the province, she ought to learn it, right? “It has.” She answered.

“Would you like a glass of wine? Don’t make me finish this bottle myself.” She nodded her assent and he took both glasses this time, filling hers a little bit higher than his. She took it without question, and as he put the bottle back on the table, the candlelight caught the label. Feywine. Prized elf vintage with an elf proof to match. She drank at least half of it in one go…

Over time, the candles had almost burned to the bottom, pools of wax in the holders threatening to spill onto the tables and floor. The sound of Rosa’s bubble laughter was pouring out of her very flushed face and Zhoron stifled a wince at how the offending sound attacked his elf sense of hearing.

“A-and then-” Rosa took a breath to continue her giggle fit, before it finally dialed down to a level where she could speak. If you called her alcohol-tied tongue speaking. By now Suggestion wore off, but she was way too drunk on Feywine to be anything but completely compliant, spilling out the answers to any question Zhoron asked. The bottle had about a third left in it, but this was clearly enough.

“You know, I confess, there still is something bothering me about what we talked about earlier, love.” He sighed, and Rosa looked at him with luminous eyes that were only half aware of her surroundings.

“’ss it about me turning you down?” She slurred, half the words all coming out at once, and inwardly he cursed. Even drunk, she was sharp. She scooted just a little bit closer, enough that an outside observer would interpret it as flirty, but he knew better.

“I just worry about Erithil. I worry that your marriage will end in disaster, because he won’t be able to cope with the pressure, and you won’t be able to cope with what happens when he reaches his breaking point. It’s not pretty, you know. Things like slavery break people. It’s why it’s illegal.” He carefully plucked her hand off his shoulder. This was a little too cozy.

“Don’t worry!” She shrieked, unaware of her volume, puffing her chest out proudly. “Listen. R’member what I said? He’s not...I’m gonna be doing everything! Erithil’s just gonna be...gonna be fine. Eri’s gonna be a trophy husband.” She declared, and Zhoron kept his face blank, seeing an opportunity to dig. “That way he won’t have to do anything important and stressful.”

“Is that what you think of him?” Zhoron gasped with perfect poise. “Just a trophy husband? Dear Rosa, I thought you were kinder than that. Don’t you care about him?” Again he pushed back her hands that grew ever closer and glanced out the window. Sunrise soon. This game couldn’t go on much longer – hopefully the next sentence out of her mouth would be juicy.

“Of course I do. I think I love him…” She confided, before realizing, in the haze, who she was speaking to. “Oh, no offense. I do care about you too, but. I think Erith- erid- er – he likes me back. I really think we can make this work – we wouldn’t have been able to be intimate together otherwise.” Her eyes widened and she slapped a hand over her mouth, and Zhoron could feel the fear pouring out of her.

“I understand. The heart wants what the heart wants. I just hope yours doesn’t get broken.” He gave a sly glance to her stomach. “I won’t tell a soul what you admitted to me tonight, but for your sake I hope there aren’t any little Dreamweavers on the way any time soon.”

“There aren’t!” She huffed. “He didn’t even penetrate that part of me. And it was still actually very enjoyable…” She sighed dreamily.

Okay, this was enough. Zhoron had absolutely no desire to hear about the nitty gritty of...this. Gross. He dug through his material pouch while Rosa was off in la la land thinking Seldarine knows what. He cleared his throat to get her attention. “Allow me, at least, to give you one final parting gift. Something simple and beautiful – I was saving it for a special occasion, but since that day will never come, now is as good a time as any.” Her eyes lit up as he handed her a perfect, de-thorned red rose, large and blooming. She inhaled it, savoring the scent.

“Oh, it’s lovely! Thank you so…much…” The petals disappeared into mist and she slumped into his lap. He stood up, sighing, and scooped her up, muttering an incantation and ending up in front of the castle gates, giving the guards a quick word before whispering the same words again and ending up in her bedroom.

Hopefully the guards would take his bribe of 50 gold each to keep their mouth shut and not bring the wrath of the Countess down on poor Rosa for the innocent crime of staying out too late – with a man! One she was courting! - and coming home drunk. If she even found out.


End file.
